The Truth Hurts
by 8BonnieBlue8
Summary: What if Cordelia hadn't killed Lilah at the end of "Calvary"? What if Gunn and Wesley had arrived in time to save her? What would have changed? How would things have been different?
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I do not own Angel, unfortunately, it is the wonderful property of Joss Whedon and David Greenwalt._

"_We all have big changes in our lives that are more or less a second chance."_

_Harrison Ford (1942 - ), quoted by Garry Jenkins in 'Harrison Ford: Imperfect Hero'_

"Why do you think I let him out?"

Lilah stared at Cordelia in confusion and suddenly the hand around her throat became a lot more threatening. Cordelia's other hand went back sharply and the attorney's eyes widened, only just able to register what was happening but registering it nonetheless.

"Cordy? Lilah?" Gunn's voice floated towards them from down the hallway and Lilah saw the indecision flash through the other woman's eyes. She could see what was in her hand now – a dagger of sorts – and she hastily struggled to get out of her grip.

"Let go of me, bitch!" Lilah snarled just loud enough for Gunn and whoever was with him to hear her.

She didn't know what was going on with the cheerleader but what she did know was that she was being held against her will with a dagger at her throat. Hence to say she panicked, well, as much as Lilah Morgan could panic.

Wesley and Gunn rounded the corner, their mouths popping open in disbelief at the sight of Cordelia holding Lilah at knife point. Cordy hastily tried to hide the dagger away but it did nothing to change what they had just seen.

"Uh, what's goin' on?" Gunn asked, looking between the two of them in confusion.

"Bitch tried to kill me," Lilah spat, finally freeing herself of Cordelia's grip and stumbling away.

"Oh, like you didn't have it coming," Cordelia spat right back.

"I didn't!"

"Did, too!"

"Look, I really want to sort this all out but Angelus is still in the house an' all," Gunn cut in, still looking mighty confused.

"I pushed him down the stairs," Lilah sighed, wiping a hand across her face. She could feel the blood leaking out of her reopened-reopened wound and was starting to get a little lightheaded. An image of Cordelia with a stone dagger flashed through her mind and she managed to inch herself further away from the other brunette – she wasn't taking any chances. "He's probably sulking in a corner somewhere like the big badass vampire he is."

"Right, we better check the rest of the hotel," Wesley decided.

She'd rather jump off a cliff then go anywhere near Angelus right now but she wasn't so inclined to stay with the woman who was clearly hell bent on killing her. Death by vampire or death by cheerleader? Hmm, choices, choices.

Suddenly Lorne and Fred came rushing in, panting for breath.

"Angelus just flew out the window, nearly gave me a heart attack when I saw him land on the ground outside," Lorne breathed. "Connor went after him."

Gunn groaned. "I'm gonna kill that kid."

"What if Angelus does first?" Fred asked meekly.

"Them I'm gonna bring him back to life and kill him all over again," he answered without missing a beat.

"Oh."

Lilah smirked leaning back against the wall, trying to cover up her earlier panic and the pain her wound was currently causing her. Truthfully she just needed the wall for support. "Angelus kills anyone it's on her shoulders." She jerked her head towards Cordelia who'd barely spoken.

"Hey, Cordelia didn't know that wasn't Angel when she let 'im out," Gunn shot back defensively, pointing his axe at her.

"Oh, yes she did." Her smirk grew wider as she spoke; she was going to enjoy seeing how this came out.

"That's ridiculous," Fred said," no-one knew that Angel wasn't Angel."

"Oh, yeah?" Lilah challenged. "Then why did she run away?"

Everyone glanced to the spot where Cordelia had been standing only moments before only to find it, just as Lilah had said, empty.

"I don't understand," Fred said weakly, still staring at the spot.

"Why would Cordy want to set free Angelus?" Gunn demanded, clearly not believing what Lilah had said.

"Hell if I know," Lilah replied, spreading her arms wide with a smirk and trying not to wince as it made her stomach experience some discomfort. Wesley's eyes zeroed in on the blood seeping through her sweater. "Maybe she finds Angelus better fuck material, _I don't care_."

A long stretching silence filled the hotel, the occupants either contemplating what they'd just been told or glaring in disgust at Lilah. Eventually the silence was broken by Wesley.

"Gunn you should scour the rim of the building to make sure he doesn't come back; see if you can find Connor while you're at it." Although he was addressing them he didn't take his eyes of Lilah who was beginning to grow a little pale from blood loss. After a pause, the former street-kid did as he was told. "Lorne what would you say to getting the furies on the line, perhaps we could work the sanctuary spell around the Hyperion?"

"On it, cupcake," Lorne responded with a forceful smile and turned away whilst grabbing Fred's arm. "Come on, baby pie, I could use some help with the spell." Fred glanced uncertainly back at Wesley and Lilah for a moment before allowing herself to be tugged along down the hall after Gunn.

Lilah let out a relieved sigh, happy to finally be out of the spotlight, and allowed her body to finally sink to the floor. She was tired, exhausted, bleeding and she really needed a shower. The nausea and light-headedness weren't helping matters either nor was the fact that her legs seemed to have given up on her. Damn legs!

Wesley was by her side in seconds, just like she knew he would be, and she didn't so much mind as she normally would that someone was seeing her vulnerable, less strong side; she actually kind of liked him there, the feel of his company, the knowledge that at least somebody in this damn world cared about her. But that was probably just the light-headedness talking.

He ran a cool hand over the side of her face and Lilah's eyes fluttered closed under his light touch. She couldn't deny it, the feelings his touch evoked in her; she couldn't deny that she cared.

After a hesitant pause he scooped her up and took her into one of the Hyperion Hotel's rooms, setting her down gently on a bed. He'd never been so gentle with her before and although it was unfamiliar and a little daunting, Lilah wasn't sure whether she could truthfully say she hated it.

"What happened with Cordelia?" he asked, taking a seat beside her on the bed.

She could tell he was uncomfortable to be there and inwardly smirked. "She said she let Angelus out to kill us, and then she tried to stab me with a dagger. Not exactly my happiest moment."

"No," Wesley agreed, "people seem awfully keen to stab you in one form or another these days." He scratched his chin thoughtfully for a moment. "Why on earth would Cordelia want Angelus on the loose? And why would she steal his soul, which I think it's safe to assume she did?"

Lilah straightened herself up a little on the bed, groaning with the effort. "Maybe she's not the one doing the stealing," she gasped.

Wesley spared her a worried glance for a moment before considering what she had said. "I think it's safe to presume she is – who else could have stolen it."

"No, I mean, what if she's just a puppet and there's somebody else pulling the strings." She paused, wiping a piece of hair off of her face.

"A possession?"

"Maybe."

"Still, that doesn't explain why she would ever let Angelus loose on the population. Most things that possess don't usually have an ulterior motive other than to, well, exist."

"Maybe the something that possessed her is a little higher up than the usual demon," she suggested, closing her eyes – maybe then the room would stop spinning. She kind of wished he would just leave, maybe she could get some sleep and the dizziness and nausea would all disappear of he did.

"The beast's master," Wesley realized, shock forming in his eyes.

"The beast did seem interested in Angelus."

"This changes things," he decided after a pause, looking resigned.

They sat in silence for a moment, listening to the sound of each other's breathing. Her eyes were still closed but even so she could tell he was lost in thought, the fact almost made her smile – some things never changed.

"Wesley?"

"Mm?" he asked, clearly being torn out of his thoughts and sounding a bit startled.

"Why are you still here?"

For a moment he didn't answer, emotions passing through his blue eyes on an endless rampage, it made her wonder what he was thinking. His eyes drifted down to the wound on her abdomen and finally he spoke.

"I really do wish you would let me take a look at that."

Lilah sighed, she'd known from the beginning she wasn't going to get a straight answer out of him. "It's fine."

Wesley raised an eyebrow in disbelief at her now blood soaked shirt and she couldn't help but chuckle, understanding his point. "Fine, knock yourself out," she resigned, leaning back against the headboard. She didn't think he'd be able to do anything but if there was a chance he could make it finally stop bleeding, put a halt to her bodily fluids spilling out for everyone one to see, she'd give it a chance.

He reached out towards her stomach, pausing for a second (there was a line somewhere here) before continuing on his path. His thin, strong fingers lifted up the hem of her shirt and Lilah pretended that her breath didn't hitch when they touched her skin – his touch didn't affect her and neither did he (yeah, right).

Wesley winced slightly when he saw the damage; the bandage covering her wound was completely soaked through with blood and the rest of her stomach was a pinkish red. Lilah could quite honestly say it was the most disgusting sight she'd ever seen; well, almost.

Gently he lifted the bandage away from her stomach and she winced in pain as her skin stuck to it by blood, stretching until it was forced to let go. There was a hole in her stomach. Lilah turned her head away, disgusted by the weakness it caused her.

Wesley sighed.

"Wes?"

He raised his head from looking at her stomach, startled. "Mm?" A sense of Déjà vu took hold of her.

"If you ever find a way to kill the beast, take me with you when you do it," Lilah ordered and in a way sort of pleaded, that much was clear in her eyes. "He needs to pay, I need him to pay."

Once again he sighed. "Lilah, I know he took a lot from you, all the pretty things in your life that you love, and he hurt you and I understand that it all qualifies for a great deal of hate on your part. But there's something more isn't there?"

"What makes you say that, lover?" she asked, trying to play innocent and cocking her head to the side.

"You wouldn't risk your life just to avenge that," he said quietly, staring up into her eyes, the wound he was supposed to be seeing to forgotten.

Lilah looked away.

"What don't I know?" he asked, voice quiet but growing in strength towards the end.

Finally she met his gaze, eyes burning into his. "Trust me on this one, Wesley, you're better off not knowing."

He opened his mouth to reply, probably to protest but stopped, thinking better of it, and turned his attention back to the hole in her stomach. It looked pretty hopeless to be truthful.

"You really should have gotten this looked at by a doctor before now," he assessed, eyes grim.

"Little busy with the whole underground thing," she told him, smirking as if nothing had happened. "I didn't get around to the whole changing-my-name either – couldn't decide between Candice and Nikki, Kendall sounded rather appealing too."

Wesley chuckled softly. "Understandable."

He looked up and smiled at her and oddly enough she found herself smiling back.


	2. Noone Wants the Truth

_Disclaimer: I do not own Angel, unfortunately, it is the wonderful property of Joss Whedon and David Greenwalt._

"_The truth is rarely pure and never simple."_

_Oscar Wilde (1854 - 1900), The Importance of Being Earnest, 1895, Act I_

"What did you and Lawyer bitch talk about?" Gunn asked as Wesley came down the stairs.

Fred and Lorne were nursing cups of coffee over on the couch, suitably stunned by the turn of events. Gunn was busy sharpening an axe while Connor scowled at the opposite wall (clearly he'd managed to find his way back and was alright).

"Nothing of importance," he responded easily. "Though we did brush on the subject of Cordelia. Apparently she informed Lilah that she purposefully let Angelus out to kill us all. Not the most comforting notion I must say."

"And you believe her?" Gunn asked, raising a disbelieving eyebrow at him.

"I see no reason for her to lie."

"She's lawyer, that's what they do," the other man pointed out in a 'duh' tone of voice.

"Ex-lawyer," Wesley corrected, if only to avoid the issue.

"Whatever! The point is: I wouldn't believe a word that came out of her mouth."

"I know when she's lying to me," Wesley told him firmly, silencing any further protests from anyone. "Heaven knows she's done it enough for me to become familiar with it."

Fred shifted uncomfortably in her seat at the reminder of Lilah and Wesley's rather intimate connection.

"The point is," Wesley continued, carrying on towards the front desk and ducking down to grab something behind it, "she's not lying and Cordelia really did let Angelus loose to kill us all. It's also safe to assume that she stole his soul as well."

"But why would Cordy do that?" Fred asked in a small voice.

"We have an idea about that as well," he replied, searching through the cabinets at the bottom of the desk while Gunn mouthed 'we' over at Lorne and Fred, making a face. "We think Cordelia may have been possessed by something or _someone_." He paused, allowing himself a moment to look up at them. "The beast's master."

Connor, who had been remaining unusually quiet throughout the whole conversation and staring glumly at the floor, suddenly burst out of his brooding. "That's impossible!"

By the looks on everyone else's faces they seemed to agree with him.

"Impossible or not, it's something to consider," Wesley reasoned, finally finding what he was looking for and lifting it up. An old but heavily stocked first aid kit stood out for the others to see.

"What's that for?" Fred asked.

"Lilah's wound needs to be re-bandaged," he explained, making his way back towards the stairs.

"And can't succubitch do it herself?" Lorne demanded, clearly not liking the idea of helping Lilah out in any way.

Wesley frowned. "She's lost a lot of blood and she's been living in the sewers for so long . . . I want to make sure that it is tended to as properly as possible." He moved on towards the stairs, not stopping when he heard Fred call after him.

"What about Cordelia?"

"We'll talk about it later."

…

When Wesley returned to Lilah's room, she was asleep. She didn't look very comfortable either and he assumed she must have just passed out without actually settling down; she had looked fairly exhausted before he left.

Instantly his eyes were drawn to the blood on her shirt, the blood that was already seeping down onto the doona covers. As much as he wanted to let her sleep (she always looked so peaceful when she slept) he knew that the wound would have to be tended to; sooner rather than later.

The former watcher made his way towards the bed, pausing before taking a seat beside Lilah. The bed dipped with his weight but she remained motionless. Pale and blood covered one could almost mistake her for dead if not for the steady rise and fall of her chest. Still, it frightened him for a moment.

Perhaps he could bandage her up without her ever waking. It would be worth a try.

Lifting her sweater up was easy enough but when it came time to take the bandage off he knew he had no hope of keeping her asleep – it would hurt. Sure enough by the time the bandage was off and he'd taken a damp cloth to the wound, Lilah's eyes had fluttered open and she hissed in pain.

"Sorry," Wesley muttered, continuing his cleaning of the wound.

Lilah winced. "Not the best wakeup call I've ever had."

Wesley grinned but without humour. "No, I suppose not."

Silence filled the room for a few moments as he worked studiously at the wound, trying his best to ignore the blood streaming out around it. Every few seconds Lilah would wince or gasp and he knew it must have hurt for her to show such signs of vulnerability.

"I've been thinking," she murmured, looking much paler than before.

Wesley frowned, barely paying attention; he had a feeling the hole would need stiches and was rather astounded she hadn't got any before now (he rather wished she had); the idea of threading a needle through Lilah's skin was not something he looked forward to.

"About ways to get back Angel's soul," she continued. "Willow Rosenburg."

That got Wesley's attention and he glanced up at her. "Willow?"

Lilah smirked sardonically. "The only living person to ever rein-soul Angel." She sat up slowly, wincing in the process. "May not work but it's worth a try."

Wesley nodded. "And a very good try at that. It's a brilliant idea."

She looked away for a moment, clearly uncomfortable and Wesley remembered only too late that complimenting each other was overstepping a carefully constructed boundary. Still, she didn't look unhappy about the fact just uncomfortable.

They didn't talk much after that, a few words here and there but nothing too substantial.

As he'd thought before, stitches were required and he stuck the needle in with great care, trying his best to ignore the pained face Lilah was making – he didn't like hurting her (the fact surprised him). Finally, after the thread had been cut, a bright new bandage re-stuck and a clean shirt from Cordelia's room swapped for the bloody one, Wesley got up to leave.

"Wesley!" she called when he was only a few centimetres away from the door.

Slowly he turned back with a questioning look and she hesitated, mouth open but no words coming out. He immediately recalled the time he'd left her in the sewers after the beast's attack on Wolfram & Hart, she'd been about to say something then but had decided not to. He wondered whether this time she would go through with it; he wondered if he really even wanted her to.

"Yes?"

"Let's say there was something you should know but you were better off not knowing, would you still want to know it?"

It was an odd question, even more so because it held none of Lilah's usual barriers. It wasn't witty or snarky, amused or nasty it was just a question, and a deep one at that. It was something Lilah would never ask unless it was very important.

"Yes," he answered after a pause. Of course he would – he loved knowledge.

He noticed the way she looked down at the bed covers after that as if preparing herself and his brow creased in concern. "What is it, Lilah? What's going on?"

Slowly he approached the brunette and once again took a seat beside her on the bed.

Lilah looked up at him and for the first time he could see just how vulnerable she really was, no mask, no smirk hid her true emotions. It nearly made him fall over in surprise.

"I was pregnant."

Wesley gaped at her for a moment. Out of all the things he'd expected her to say that one hadn't even been on the list. Pregnant; such a simple word but of so much more importance. There was no need of course to ask who the father was for why else would Lilah be telling him this in the first place.

"When did you find out?" he asked after a pause, unable to find anything else to say and even that was a struggle.

"Rain of fire," she answered simply.

Instantly, Wesley remembered, guiltily, when she had come over to his apartment the day after only to have him turn her away again, thus ending their relationship. She'd hugged him then, probably the first, real hug they'd ever had. She'd left him a good hundred messages too at that ('but don't feel obligated to return any'.) He wondered vaguely how that must have been for her; no doubt pregnancy and children were something that actually managed to scare Lilah Morgan and break her cool façade. It was all too likely he'd pushed her away when she'd needed him the most. Not that she would ever admit to needing or for that matter wanting him, even to herself.

Then Wesley picked up on something she had said and anything he could have said, perhaps an apology although 'sorry' was certainly not a part of their vocabulary, was blown out the window. "Wait, 'was'?"

Lilah bit her lip and pointed down at the spot on her stomach where the hole was; Wesley's blood ran cold – no explanation was needed. In less than five minutes he'd found out that not only was he a father but that child was dead. Another sense of guilt washed though him as he remembered the way he had left her alone in the sewers, wounded; perhaps if he had stayed and looked after her the baby would still be alive.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

Lilah shrugged, doing her best to look completely unbothered by it all . . . and failing miserably in Wesley's eyes. "Yeah, well, it's not like I could have been any kind of mother. It's better this way."

For some reason that only god knew, Wesley took her hand, threading his fingers through hers. He didn't have any words of comfort for Lilah, their relationship when existent had had nothing to do with comfort (though sometimes Wesley had to think that it had everything to do with comfort) and neither of them knew how to be truly kind to each other. Wesley knew next to nothing about Lilah yet the sad thing was he probably knew her better than anyone else in the world and she the same about him (though that probably had something to do with the files she poured over every week that held every significant and insignificant detail there was to know about him, courtesy of Wolfram & Hart). But they didn't comfort each other.

The truth was he didn't know what kind of mother Lilah could have made. She was strict, clean and hard but there was a soft side to her, a side that he could count on one hand how many times he'd seen but still there. Perhaps a baby would have brought forth that side more often. Or perhaps it would have destroyed it.

Wesley couldn't deny that motherhood and Lilah Morgan didn't exactly go hand in hand. But neither had Wesley and Lilah up until the end of last year, so anything was possible.

"Maybe," he relented, turning her palm over in his, studying the lines. She was watching him cautiously, studying every aspect of his reaction and he couldn't blame her – this was very deep water. "Maybe not. It still hurts though, doesn't it?" It wasn't a question, not really.

Her hand stiffened in his and for a moment Wesley thought he might have gone too far, it'd be a wonder if he hadn't actually, but then it relaxed again and she looked up from their hands to meet his gaze.

"It still hurts," she agreed.

The admittance was more than he had ever hoped to get from Lilah, a true sign of weakness, but instead of savouring it like he normally would have done the words gave him no glee, no triumph but rather filled him with a deep sense of pain, of empathy for her. He truly was in too far.

"And that's why I have to get him, Wes," she continued. "That's why I need to get the beast. I need to make him pay."

"I know."

Before he could stop himself, Wesley leaned forward and planted a kiss on her forehead, surprised when she didn't stiffen under his touch and pull away. Despite this rarity Wesley knew that that was exactly what it was – a rarity –and he was unlikely to ever see this side of Lilah again. And it was this that Wesley savoured.

"_The truth is painful. Deep down, nobody wants to hear it, especially when it hits close to home. Sometimes we tell the truth because the truth is all we have to give. Sometimes we tell the truth because we need to say it out loud to hear it for ourselves. And sometimes we tell the truth because we just can't help ourselves. Sometimes, we tell them because we owe them at least that much."_

_Meredith Grey, "Gray's Anatomy"_

_A/N: So, what did you think? Surprise? I hope I didn't get too out of character._

_Oh, and by the way, thanks for the reviews; I really appreciated them._


	3. Aftermath

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Angel, unfortunately, it is the wonderful property of Joss Whedon and David Greenwalt. Some of the lines from this chapter belong to the episode 'Salvage' from Angel and are not my own property.**_

"_In the beginning the Universe was created. This has made a lot of people very angry and been widely regarded as a bad move."_

_Douglas Adams quotes (British comic Writer, 1952-2001)_

Wesley closed the door to Lilah's room and leant back against it, eyes raised to the ceiling. Once again Lilah was asleep and Wesley had used the chance to duck out. Watching Lilah sleep was probably the highlight of their once relationship (not that he had gotten to see it much) because it was the only time he got to see her without her high-wall defences but he'd already seen too much of that today, anymore and he might've began to believe that Lilah's soul had never really been sold to Wolfram & Hart.

It was here, head resting against the wooden door, that he finally allowed the emotion that had been building up inside him to come out, that he allowed himself to cry.

…

Wesley made his way downstairs, looking a little worse for wear after his minor breakdown upstairs.

Stepping into the lobby was like stepping into a world of doom and gloom (or it would have been if he wasn't already living there); everyone was tied up in their own little thoughts of despair, giving the word 'moping' a whole new definition. Of course, he couldn't really blame them – not only was the world ending but their champion was otherwise occupied with the rather tempting trait of being evil and the woman who they would have turned to next for guidance was possibly being possessed by whatever it was that was trying to destroy the world (some definite moping was certainly in order).

Still, even despite all this, Wesley's forlorn mood managed to stand out from the crowd and his pain shadowed eyes instantly caught Fred and Lorne's attention; bugger.

"Wesley, are you OK?" Fred asked in concern, taking in his untidy appearance and red eyes.

He ignored this. "Fred, I need you to get Sunnydale on the line, ask them to send Willow up here," he ordered, taking her by surprise. "And do stress that this is a matter of great importance and must be seen to immediately."

"Um, OK," Fred stuttered, taken aback by his attitude before rushing off in the direction of the phone.

Wesley continued on towards the door.

"Hey, where you goin', man?" Gun asked from his position by the weapons cabinet.

"We're going to bring Angel in alive," he answered without hesitation.

"No, we're not." One guess who that comment was from. If you voted the tall boy with the broody outlook like his father you were correct.

"I thought you said capturin' 'im wasn't an option," Gunn challenged.

"Changed my mind."

"Change it back," Connor growled, clearly he wasn't liking the idea of having his one chance to kill his father taken away. Wesley couldn't care less.

"We get rid of Angelus, then what?" he questioned. "We still have a beast we don't know how to kill. We know it's working for something worse, but we don't know what it is. We're caught in the middle of a maelstrom and we can't get out without our champion." He paused shortly, allowing that to sink in before continuing. "We're going to save Angel, and I know who we need to help us do it." If only he could be sure that person wouldn't kill them all afterwards. Oh well, at least it saved them trying to figure out how to fix this mess.

…

Lilah winced, painstakingly making her way down the stairs of the Hyperion Hotel. She could have stayed up in bed away from everyone (which, hey, sounded like a dream) but then she would be running the risk of being alone which meant that she was easy prey to both Angelus and Cordelia. Not that she was scared or anything but she'd found that it did help to be paranoid in her line of work more often than not. For example: that time she was so sure Gavin was up to something and found him pouring rat poison into her cup of coffee (she gave him points for creativity, but less points for being cheap).

They were all sitting around the lobby (as expected), sulking without a shred of dignity (also expected). Of course, what she hadn't expected was to see a short brunette in a denim jacket sharing a deep conversation with Wesley. If Lilah hadn't known who the woman was she might have been a little suspicious; operative word being 'might'.

"You've got to be kidding me," she spoke allowed, for once she was stunned and that didn't happen very often.

The brunette turned to face her (along with everyone else in the room), eyes widening as soon as she saw who it was. "What the hell is lawyer bitch doin' here?" she asked, though without much venom; she just sounded genuinely interested. "Didn't she have her little heart set on killin' Angel last I was here?"

Lilah smirked, not in the least offended. "Look who's talking, jailbait."

Faith actually looked suitably chagrined (well, as much as someone like her could anyway which was very much at all).

"No, I've got to agree with cupcake over here, what is succubitch still doing here?" Lorne asked, glaring slightly at her (well, as much as a kind-hearted demon like him could glare at anyone).

Lilah opened her mouth to reply then closed it. She had many reasons for staying, none of which she could openly voice to these people. Luckily she was saved by Wesley.

"She could be of use to us." His tone left little room for discussion and they shared a look over everyone's heads for a moment, a look that only Faith seemed to notice. After a moment he looked away, breaking their stare. "Faith is going to help us bring in Angelus, Lilah," he said in answer to her earlier question.

Lilah frowned. "You couldn't get in contact with the witch?"

"No, she's on her way over."

"Then why do you need to go to the trouble of capturing him? Correct me if I'm wrong but he doesn't exactly have to be in the same room as her when she re-insoul's him."

"No, he doesn't," Wesley agreed, "but the amount of carnage that he could cause in-between must be taken into account."

Lilah rolled her eyes – always the do-gooder – and took a seat on the couch, a good distance away from the others. "Whatever you say, lover." Faith's eyebrow's rose at this and a slight smirk appeared on her face as she looked between the two; once again this went unnoticed by both Wesley and Lilah.

…

Lilah looked up from the cup of coffee in her hands; she was sitting alone in the lobby while everyone else did their research thing in the office where the books lived, Wesley along with them. She wasn't surprised to see the slayer, Faith, walking towards her – books really didn't seem to be her thing.

"So, what's the deal between you and Wes?" the brunette asked, waltzing towards her with that usual swagger of hers.

"Mostly rough sex," Lilah answered simply, raising the coffee cup to her lips. If it had been someone else maybe she would have lied (unless of course she would have gained something by telling the truth) but lying about something as trivial as an affair with this woman seemed almost degrading.

A smirk grew on Faith's face and it was clear she was impressed by both her bluntness and her honesty. "Go Wes, I didn't think he ever got laid."

Lilah couldn't help but express an answering smirk; she could actually grow to like this woman. "You'd be surprised."

Faith grinned wolfishly and glanced in the direction of the office, Wesley could be seen sitting there at the table, head bowed over some dusty old book. Lilah followed her gaze; the untidy appearance actually made him look kind of hot. She frowned, trying to ignore the feeling the sight of him made stir in her stomach.

The slayer gazed at her for a moment, the smirk transforming into a small smile. "You care about him, don't yah?"

Lilah contemplated denying it for a moment but she just didn't feel the need to. Faith wouldn't tell anyone else and it was about time she owned up to the fact. Besides, it wasn't like she was about to say she loved him; not that she did. "Yes." Still, it did make her slightly uncomfortable to admit it. It was a vulnerable thing to say and Lilah hated vulnerability.

"Yeah, I figured as much," Faith replied with a grin. "Think he cares 'bout you too."

…

Connor stared at the doorway to the Hyperion hotel. He wanted to walk out through that door and find Cordelia, feel the warmth and comfort he usually felt in her presence, but he couldn't, could he? Cordelia was evil, or so the others said, and Connor didn't associate himself with evil. At the same time she was still Cordelia though, the only person who – in his opinion – had ever given a damn about him; how could she be evil?

No, it was obvious the others had just gotten it wrong and besides, who in there right mine would trust anything Lilah said?

Making up his mind, Connor headed towards the door.

"_I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,_

_or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off._

_I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,_

_in secret, between the shadow and the soul."_

_-Pablo Neruda, Sonnet XVII_


End file.
